Black Rose
by colours.of.lace
Summary: Unless you knew her story, you could never understand how someone could become Bellatrix Lestrange... It was mostly love. For Bellatrix Black's love, she became the woman she never wanted to be. Understand her.
1. Bellatrix Black

_I have taken some liberties with ages because I couldn't resist including such gorgeous characters into my story. I'm trying a new route with this story- a little more angst and drama than I'm used to. I really hope you enjoy it, especially as I keep having little inspirations for:_

**Black Rose**

She could hear screaming.

It was punctuated with sharp cracks and the whistle of whips through the air, a rhythm that Bellatrix unconsciously mimicked combing out her hair. Unemotionally studying her reflection in the silvery mirror, the agonized shrieks of the house elf was soothing in its familiarity, yet discomforting in an unrecognized and constantly ignored ache.

Whilst the young girl at the boudoir was strictly forbidden from using any cosmetics- "You are a _Black_, not some lower-class wench who must hide the shame of her coarseness"- she was strongly encouraged to use enhancing potions, especially those that would bring out the lustre of her skin, the sleekness of her hair, and the dark depths of her eyes. Thus, the table before Bellatrix was littered with literally hundreds of tiny, self-replenishing vials and glasses, the contents of which were expertly selected and mixed in the warm groove of the girl's palm, before being liberally applied all over her naked white body. Satisfied with her long mane of hair, which now exactly resembled a dark waterfall in motion, Bellatrix put down the ivory comb and leaned so her nose was lightly squashed against the reflective surface, examining her own eyes in a fascinated boredom, knowing she'd rather spend hours in this position than go downstairs and suffer through another tediously ceremonial family dinner.

It was a sullen sort of beauty that startled her face, arresting in a sleepily hypnotic manner. In men and women alike, her dark image provoked a faint and primal desire that always appealed to the hidden perversities of their nature. She could have been good and kind and compassionate, but with that face and slight figure, not to mention the Black title, she had never been given a chance. And she was only eleven.

Realizing the cracking had stopped, Bellatrix pulled away from the mirror in surprise. The beating had only lasted a minute or so; her Aunt Walburga must be feeling unusually lenient. As she threw a Japanese-print silk kimono around her shoulders, she realized that there were sounds of a heated debate echoing up from the floor below. Although Bellatrix had a sinking suspicion regarding the quarrelers, she glanced around the guest bedroom for a portrait she was on good terms with.

"Lady Irma, I hear sounds of an argument below, uh, would you please see what the problem is?" Bellatrix asked hoarsely, clearing her throat as the painted woman nodded condescendingly to her granddaughter and left her ornate frame.

Waiting a few moments, Bellatrix impatiently left the room without waiting for Irma Black's return. As she descended the stairs, she caught snatches of the furious argument, confirming her suspicions. She rounded into the hallway before the kitchen, distracted by a swooning and pathetically bloodied elf on a tattered rug, but her attention was quickly returned to her aunt and cousin, spitting and hissing at one another, and from all appearances ready to gouge their opponent's eyes out.

"-AND IF YOU THINK THESE _PATHETIC WEAK_ …NO! _NO!_ … FILTHY _SCUM_, WHAT BLACK COULD… AT HOGWARTS THEN WE SHALL… _FINAL_… REPRESENTATION OF THIS MOST GREAT AND NOBLE HOUSE-"

"-PICK ON SOMEONE YOUR… DON'T _WANT_ THIS… SO STUPID YOU WOULD… AS WELL BE AN ANIMAL_… MY FAULT_? YOU BLOODY… NEVER GOING TO BE LIKE YOU OR… I GODDAMN WON'T… _NEVER_, DAMN YOU-"

Bellatrix frowned and snapped her fingers, summoning her personal elf, and indicated with a terse flick of her hand that miserable miscreant was to be removed. The elf Micey (or was it Dicey?) burst into tears at the sight of her companion's flayed back, clearly visible through his shredded tunic. She was sobbing so hard it took her three attempts to hoist the injured elf's body half upright before the two of them disapparated out of the hallway, presumably to somewhere kinder.

Now thoroughly irritated by everyone and everything, particularly Micey's incompetence, Bellatrix found herself the recipient of two very angry, trademark Black glares. The loud cracks of the elves apparating had apparently drawn their attention, and with her mind clouded with annoyance, it took Bellatrix a few moments to remember why she had bothered coming down.

"What is it Bellatrix?" Walburga Black snapped, "Can't you tell I am busy," and here she turned to give her son a very nasty look, "attending to some trash?"

Sirius grunted in frustated fury, kicked a sturdy mahogany footstool very hard, and stormed off limping slightly. Pretending to ignore the crashing of her cousin's footsteps up the stairs, Bellatrix cleared her throat again and reminded her aunt that the Lestranges were due in under twenty minutes, voice trailing off as her aunt turned on her heel and exited the scene. Then Bellatrix allowed herself a childish impulse and kicked the same abused mahogany footstool (though not as hard as Sirius, Bellatrix was nobody's fool), enjoying the mental relief the action brought her.

"Stupid, self-absorbed bitch," she muttered, inspiring disapproving harrumphs from the portraits lining the walls, who had been dispassionately viewing the commotion. Bellatrix then breathed in until she felt her lungs would burst and let out an elephantine sigh before returning sedately to her temporary bedroom. Temporary because she was in her Uncle Orion and Aunt Walburga's house, the two of them hosting a celebratory/farewell dinner in Sirius and Bellatrix's honour as the two of them would be boarding the Hogwarts Express for the first time the next day to begin seven years of magical schooling. Bellatrix hated family get-togethers almost as much as she hated the tedious Lestrange clan (a burden she had carried and would carry her entire life, having been betrothed to one Rudolphus Lestrange even before she had been born).

Bellatrix slid out of her dressing gown without inhibition and returned to her grooming. Satisfied with her reflection, she opened a looming wardrobe that had been a frequent source of nightmares in her childhood to draw out a simple silvery robe, especially custom made for the occasion. More like a gown than a typical dress robe, Bellatrix noted there was plenty of room for embellishment and ornate jewellery, which she adored. Opening her school trunk, she pulled out a bag that had been charmed to extend to her own chest of jewels at home. She knew exactly what would transform the dress- an exquisite amethyst pendant with its matching hairpins- but reached rather for another pendant, similar except emerald and diamond and with no matching hairpins. Tossing the bag back into the trunk, which fell shut with a clunky slam, Bellatrix lay her outfit on the four poster bed and admired it before happily putting it all on. When she next returned to the mirror, she was pleased.

The silver robe was sleeveless and swept to the floor in folds that pooled around her. It had deep V-necks both at the front and behind, but the gap in the front was bridged by a shimmery sheet of silver chiffon. Highlighting this was the emerald and diamond pendant, which also caused Bellatrix's dark eyes to snap and sparkle. Her obvious lack of breasts or a mature figure kept the effect as being seductively un-innocent rather than immodest or gaudy.

"Stupid bitch," she repeated.

Nothing could lighten Bellatrix's mood more than beauty or feeling beautiful, and she smiled and twirled around the room like the child she was, encouraging the much abused spirit of the mirror to pipe out a few comments of appreciation, which were quickly stoppered. Bellatrix was nobody's fool. A few moments of weakness might be kept to herself, done in a forbidden hush, never talked about and _certainly_ never performed in front of others.

Knowing from painful experience that she could never last the duration of this dinner without betraying her Black composure at least once, she located the large vial of infusion of wormwood and edelweiss that Micey or Dicey had secretly prepared in anticipation. Wincing, choking and gagging at the incredible bitterness of the solution, she drank it mouthful by mouthful, eager for the blurriness and time manipulation it would bring. Drinking it would mean she would have no conscious control over her actions during the evening, operating on autopilot, and would have no recollection of the dinner in the morning. The last few gulps were forced down with the shining desire for it to be morning and for new adventures to be begun, Hogwarts to be conquered. That surge of desire and hope was the last thing Bellatrix could remember before waking up with the sunlight creeping under her eyelids.

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><p><em>I will love you forever if you review! Please do!<em>

_.lace_


	2. And It Began

_Thank you __Cassia4u__ for your encouraging review! I think cassia flowers are beautiful, and this chapter is dedicated to you. I hope you enjoy it!_

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><p>…<strong>Black Rose…<strong>

The entire Black clan had turned up to show off their two new students, taking up a large portion of Platform 9 ¾ and looking so forbidding that they had a large radius of empty space around them. Gazing out of the accelerating Hogwarts Express, Bellatrix idly watched them alternate between sniping at one another and haughtily looking down their noses at other children and their parents. She knew she shouldn't be feeling so relieved that she would not have to see any of them for months and months, but even being in a compartment with Sirius and several unlikeable family friends hand selected by Orion Black couldn't quell the butterflies that were fluttering so vigorously she could practically feel them spilling out of her throat.

A bray of laughter Rudolphus Lestrange drew her attention away from the views, now country scenery, and Bellatrix once again sadly admired her betrothed's remarkable goatishness. Next to him sat the angel faced Lucius Malfoy who didn't try to mask his irritation at being forced to sit with first year babies. Sirius sat sullenly next to Bellatrix, his knees bouncing up and down like hyperactive pistons. Rounding off the group was Mathilda Parkinson, engaged in telling Rudolphus of the various things she'd imperio'd garden gnomes to do over the summer.

"…and it was really quite astonishing, the tactics they used when they realised it really was a matter of survival of the fittest. Midnight raids and such. Some even took to making little weapons! However that was nothing compared to when they started _eating_ each other-"

"That's fucking disgusting," Sirius interrupted angrily, still boring holes into the floor with his eyes.

Sirius. Always angry, never happy.

Everyone knew he was referring to Mathilda's activities rather than the garden gnomes. Sirius's unorthodox attitudes were common knowledge in the circles of magical aristocracy, much to his parents' anger and dismay. But Bellatrix couldn't help but agree with her cousin a little. Mathilda's stories had been making her feel that uncomfortable niggling ache, and she glanced uneasily at his tapping feet.

Lucius rolled his eyes, "Listen to what she's saying. A little bit of pressure and those creatures turn cannibals. _That's_ disgusting."

"But Sirius," Rudolphus chimed in with a wicked edge to his voice, "A Black should really know better than to expose his own weaknesses. Of all things, garden gnomes? I trust you have heard of the Slytherin initiation… I feel it is my duty… well, you're just giving me _so _many ideas."

That caused Sirius to look up. The compartment was tense and quiet, watching conflicting emotions wrench around his mentally willed him to shutupshutupshutup, knowing she really shouldn't care, but caring for her vulnerable, misguided cousin anyway.

Finally Sirius's face settled into a calm countenance. To Bellatrix's internal distress he stood up and walked out, saying grimly, "Whatever. I'm leaving." The sliding door slammed shut.

"Tch, what a drama queen," complained Mathilda, "Not like you, Bella. I can never tell what you're thinking. All you Blacks… you mess with my mind." She elbowed Rudolphus and they resumed their conversation.

Lucius, however, leaned in towards Bellatrix. Leaning in allowed him to better admire the smooth contours of her face, but he muttered seriously, "Stupid thing for Rudolphus to say, eh? Right before the sorting and everything. Seriously Bella, you'd better go talk to him. Your uncle would kill us if Sirius did anything stupid and we didn't stop him."

Bellatrix shrugged as if she couldn't care one way or another. "My uncle would kill _you,_" she corrected apathetically, "And besides, Sirius wouldn't do anything stupid. He knows what's expected of him."

Lucius opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of what he was going to say. Trying to ignore the bawdily loud pair beside them, he stood and reached for his trunk overhead, "Game of chess, Bella?"

"Don't cry when I beat you."

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><p>It was a close game, but Bellatrix did win. And Lucius didn't cry, but rather shook her hand with mock solemnity. The sky was darkening and Bellatrix felt a twinge of responsibility.<p>

"I'm going to get Sirius," she announced, nodding to Maria Zabini and her boyfriend who had joined the compartment whilst she had been engrossed in the game.

On her way out, she almost bumped into a lady with a food trolley. Realizing she was actually quite hungry, she bought two cauldron cakes, one for herself and one as a peace offering for Sirius when she found him.

It took her far less time than she expected to find him. Bellatrix could hear shouts of laughter echoing through the corridor from what turned out to be the last compartment on the train. She was surprised when she realized she couldn't remember the last time Sirius had laughed in front of her, certainly never with this lack of abandon and with such carefree joy. Bellatrix hesitated uncertainly at the second-last compartment. Looking in she could see sleepy inhabitants clearly irritated by the noise from next door. Giving herself a mental slap in the face, she walked steadily towards where Sirius was and, without ceremony, opened the door.

Three faces looked up at her in surprise, one person, intent on finishing his joke ("so then the bartender turns to the unicorn..."), had his face turned away towards Sirius. Bellatrix did a quick visual sweep. Three boys, one girl. No one she knew except Sirius. The redheaded girl was irritatingly pretty. The boy next to the girl was weedy and mousey looking, nervous and easily dismissed. Sirius was facing her directly, back against the window. He stared at her defensively, not laughing anymore. Bellatrix wondered how she looked- beautiful and intimidating, _obviously_. But could they sense her uncertainty, her embarrassing shyness. She felt she had interrupted something private and sacred and mysterious.

Then the boy with his back to her turned, neck craned to peer up at the disturbance through wiry glasses, and Bellatrix felt electricity spark through her so thoroughly and unforgivingly that she only just managed to catch an unwilling shiver. He was gangly and not as handsome as half the young men she had been introduced to in her life, but Bellatrix had to make an effort to pull her eyes away from the confused but cheeky hazel eyes. Shaken by these new and overwhelming feelings, and horribly aware that she was just standing there in the doorway, she focussed on Sirius's face. Bellatrix opened her mouth, but found she couldn't speak.

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><p><em>I hope you enjoyed the latest instalment (I had to do a little editing)! Please review, constructive criticism <em>


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